Page 64 of Fake Wife
William doesn’t. He can’t. He and Mary have been married for twenty-five years and are still going strong. I blink harshly, fighting back a sudden blurriness in my vision, and heave a breath. “I rear-ended him the day I lost my job, lost my boyfriend, moved out of the apartment, William. I didn’t have anywhere to go.”
“My house would have been an option.”
“I know.” He’s right. I’m making excuses. I could have said no, but Corbin is hard to resist. “Anyway, I’ve agreed and we’re getting married in a few weeks. At the end of two years, we go our separate ways.”
This is real, angel. Tell me it’s real for you. We’ll figure it out. Let me take care of you. I want to.
Corbin’s deep voice rings in my ear. He meant every word, but what happens when he no longer does?
Bushy, salt-and-pepper eyebrows arch. “Well,” William says, brushing his hands down the tops of his thighs. “Sounds like you put yourself in quite a pickle, then. But if you’re certain you need to go through with this, tell me how Mary and I can help.”
This is why I love the man, even if he had to fire me. He’s justgood.
With tears blurring my vision, I smile. “Can you walk me down the aisle? And maybe have dinner with us this week?”
“Yes to dinner. Let me approve the man before I give you away to him.” He winks and takes my hand. And damn, it makes me wish my own parents were still alive. I don’t want to know what they’d think of this insanity, but I imagine my dad would look at me in much the same way William is. Like he thinks I’m ridiculous and making a mistake, but I’m grown enough to handle it and learn from it. “Tell me about him.”
I explain more details, not the specifics of our arrangement. I tell him everything I know about Corbin, our time together. I don’t mention what I know Corbin would prefer to keep private. His side business, his father and his mom. Anything that could hurt him should William spill something accidentally, I keep tucked away.
When I’m done, William has a soft smile on his face and a sweet look in his eyes.
“Did I ever tell you how Mary and I met?”
I expected a lecture in being careful, sage advice on how to stay safe and protect myself for when this ends. Instead, his question surprises me.
“No.”
“Fell in love with her the second I saw her, no joke,” he says when I open my mouth to argue. It can’t happen. Lust at first sight, maybe. Love? No way.
I thought I was seeing an angel when I stepped out of my car.
Again, with Corbin’s voice. What I wouldn’t give to go more than five seconds without thinking of him.
“Yep. I did,” William says. There’s no question in his expression, either. “My pals and I were out, blowing off steam before we took off to the Gulf War, set to deploy in just a few days to Iraq, and in walked this woman. She had three friends with her, but I didn’t see anyone besides her. As soon as I saw Mary, I knew I was going to marry her.”
“Sounds like a fairy tale, William.”
“Danced with her, bought her some drinks, spent four hours with her, ignoring my friends, ignoring everyone, and by the time we were done that night, I took her home and told her I was going to marry her. You know what she said to me?”
Mary’s a sassy spitfire. I can imagine her laughing in his face. Calling him crazy. By the look in his eyes, she didn’t do anything of the sort. “What’d she say?”
“She said yes. We were married on my first leave back to the States.”
The conviction in his voice, the softness as he remembers everything, smiling at me like it’s happening to him all over again, undoes me and tears spill down my cheeks. “That’s sweet, William, really, but I don’t think Corbin and I are like that.”
“But you do like him.”
“Well, yeah.” I laugh, shaking my head. “I mean, it’s Corbin Lane. What’s not to like?”
I flip my hand, making less of it than I mean to, but I can’t go deep. I am falling in love with a man I’ve known for less than two weeks, and I just spent seven years with a man I also thought I’d marry. Two weeks into my relationship with Drake, things were this intense, too. Who’s to say everything won’t fall apart this time as well?
William nods and reaches out, squeezing my hand. A fatherly look glimmers in his eyes and I so wish they had their own children to nurture.
“We’ll do dinner,” William says, his words soft like he’s afraid of making me cry more. “I’ll have Mary call you to set it up, okay? And don’t forget what this old man said. Sometimes, when things are right, even when they seem crazy, you know it. Don’t doubt yourself, sweetheart. You’re too smart for that.”
“Okay.”
We talk more and I ask him about Mary’s quilting group she’s become involved in in the last few months. The woman can’t sew a button onto a pair of jeans, but she’s determined to learn how to make quilts like her mom and grandma. Sewing isn’t her talent, but she’s incredibly talented teaching special education at one of the local elementary schools, so we talk about her job, too, while William helps me forget about the mess my life is currently in.
